


Write What You Know

by WritingToKeepMySanity



Series: Soulmates ‘verse [1]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, Soulmates AU, and couldn't get this out of my head, basically my first attempt at fanfic in like 2 years, but i just watched Newsies for like the third time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-23 12:52:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12507868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingToKeepMySanity/pseuds/WritingToKeepMySanity
Summary: Jack Kelly and Katherine Plumber didn’t have time for soulmates.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *Back in Black plays in the background as I post this fic*  
> An "everything you write on your skin appears on your soulmate's" AU because I'm a sucker for Soulmate AUs and because I feel like Jack and Katherine are the type of people to write on themselves all the time.

Jack Kelly didn’t have time for soulmates.

Being orphaned at eight, shuffled around from foster family to foster family for seven years, and chased by the cops more times than any seventeen year old should, Jack had more important concerns than who his soulmate could be.

He met Crutchie in the orphanage when he was ten, and the two became thick as thieves—a metaphor that wasn’t entirely metaphorical, as they did get caught stealing more than once.

The two went to live with the Jacobs when they were fifteen and thirteen. Mayer and Esther Jacobs already had three kids, an eighteen-year-old daughter Sarah, a fifteen-year-old son David, and “ten— _almost_ ” year old Les.

Jack and Crutchie found a home with the Jacobs. Mayer and Esther never made them feel like a burden, like other fosters had, always had time for each kid, were the parents he and Crutchie couldn’t remember having. They didn’t know how to act around Sarah at first, having always lived with boys, but her sweet nature and occasional rebellious streak won them over in the end. Dave and Les were easier to crack—they followed Jack and Crutchie on their adventures, something that Les always found great fun.

(Dave mostly tagged along to make sure no one was seriously injured.)

Despite all this, Jack kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Late at night, in the room he shared with Dave, he read, and reread, the books he’d swiped what seemed like a lifetime ago. Old Westerns full of cowboys and horses, riding out in big open fields under wide skies, well…

For a kid who was all too used to cramped spaces, it was a dream.

But… Still. Whenever he saw her looping handwriting appear—usually at random, short scribbles of _Coffee with Darcy – 2_ or _Article due Friday_ —he let himself hope, wish, dream, for something, someone, bigger than Santa Fe.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Katherine Plumber didn’t have time for soulmates.

Her mother and sister had both come into the world with big ideas, ready to take on anything. They left the world shells of the women they used to be. They allowed themselves to be swept away, caught up in their soulmate’s lives, and didn’t achieve even a tenth of what they’d hoped to.

Katherine refused to be that kind of woman. Soulmates were great and everything—the fact that there was someone for everyone was comforting, she could admit that—but she never wanted to lose herself for the sake of another. Not even her soulmate.

For as long as she could remember, she wanted to be a reporter. She wanted to chase stories, find scoops, change the world with her words. She couldn’t do any of that if she was wrapped up in someone else’s life. So, Katherine decided she would live her life as though soulmates didn’t exist.

A fact that was difficult to ignore every time a doodle appeared on her wrist, or bicep, or, once, strangely enough, upside down on her stomach. If the drawings weren’t so beautiful, she’d be more concerned that her soulmate would wind up with ink poisoning.

But, ever the bullheaded Plumber, she resolutely ignored every tree, bird, cloud, every _Fix C’s crutch_ or _New shoes for L_ , and moved on with her life.

Well… Maybe once or twice she pulled her sleeve back for a second peek. Trace the lines of his latest doodle. Purely out of journalistic curiosity, of course. And maybe, occasionally, she let herself wonder about who he was. What it would be like to meet him.

Simply indulging her reporter instincts, of course.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

“Plumber!”

Katherine backtracked, poking her head in her editor’s office. “Yes, Mr. Denton?”

Bryan Denton, editor of the _Sun_ , leaned away from his computer. “Hey, Katherine, how’d you like a real article?”

Trying, and probably failing, to keep a shocked look off her face, Katherine sputtered, “Of—yes—of course, Mr. Denton!”

Katherine had been interning at the _Sun_ for a couple of months now, mostly being a go-for—fetching coffee, helping set up for meetings, occasionally posting quizzes on the social media page—but now, a chance for a _real_ article…

“…Medda Larkin, who owns a theatre downtown. She’s been getting a lot of publicity lately. Should make a good human-interest story. Think you can handle that?”

Now trying, and failing, to keep a disappointed look off her face, Katherine nodded. “Oh… Yeah. I could… handle that.”

“Great!” He scribbled something on a sticky note and handed it to her. “Here’s the address, she’s expecting you at three. And Plumber?”

Halfway out the door, Katherine turned back to her editor. “Yes sir?”

“It doesn’t seem like a huge story, I know.” Katherine blinked, taken aback. That… was not what she was expecting. “But I’ve read your writing. You’re good. This is a way to get your foot in the door. Do a good job, and there could be bigger stories for you later.”

“Yes sir.” Denton gave her what she assumed was a reassuring smile and turned back to his computer. Katherine tucked the Post-It in her purse and exited the office, making a beeline for the bathroom.

_A fluff piece. Human-interest. I refused to work for Dad for this reason. I’m a reporter. I should be reporting, not writing_ human-interest _stories…_

“Am I insane?” she interrupted her train of thought. “This is what I’ve been waiting for. Go write this article, blow Denton’s mind, and you watch what happens, Katherine.”

With a renewed sense of confidence, Katherine plucked the pen from behind her ear and scribbled on the inside of her wrist _Medda’s at three_ before whisking out of the bathroom.

*~*~*~*~*

 

There was no one backstage when the four boys quietly snuck in the back door of Medda’s theatre. When the words appeared on the inside of Jack’s wrist, Les had demanded they go to the theatre to try and find his soulmate. At eleven, the kid was fascinated with the whole phenomenon of soulmates, and held on to every story the three older boys would tell him about the writings that appeared on their skin.

Crutchie and Dave had been all too willing to follow the kid’s lead. Jack still hadn’t figured out how he felt about the prospect of meeting _her_. It was an idea he’d tried ignoring most of his life, and here he was, about to meet it face-to-face.

It was, in a word, daunting.

“Don’t look like anyone’s back here,” Jack said, trying to turn their group around, get back outside. But Les was determined. Ducking under Jack’s arm, he ran for the metal staircase that led up into the catwalks crisscrossing above the theatre.

“C’mon, fellas!” he called over his shoulder. “If we get up high, we might find her!”

Trying to stifle a groan, Jack called back to him “Les, you know Medda hates it when we go up there! ‘Sides, Crutchie’s leg—”

“Aw, this is nothin’ Jack.” Crutchie nudged him with his elbow, a slightly hurt look in his eyes. Jack winced, an apology on the tip of his tongue—he knew better than to make a big deal of Crutchie’s leg if the kid himself wasn’t complaining—but Crutchie was already turning towards the staircase. “I used ta climb worse stairs than this at Snyder’s.” Bracing his hand on the bannister, Crutchie began climbing, Dave following him, calling up to Les to slow down.

Left at the bottom of the stairs, Jack took off his cap and smacked the wall with it. Roughly scrubbing a hand through his hair, he muttered a “Yeah, _okay_ ,” under his breath and jammed his hat back on his head, following his boys up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, they had a full view of the theatre. It was mostly empty, just a few stagehands milling around. The backdrop Jack had finished that morning was drying on the stage.

Gesturing to it, Dave asked, “Hey, Jackie—that your new backdrop?”

“Yeah, I finished it earlier.”

“Where is that?” Dave inquired. He squinted at the canvas painting. “Is that Santa Fe?”

Les looked up at Jack, startled. “Jack, you ain’t still thinking about leaving us for Santa Fe, are you?” Jack had never exactly made his dream of moving out West a secret, and it scared Les to think one of his pseudo-brothers would up and leave him one day.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jack searched for the right words to say. “Aw, kid. It’s not like that. It’s—”

Before he could finish, Jack saw a flash of purple, a toss of auburn hair. Leaning over the railing of the catwalk, grateful for any distraction, he looked down to the stage area. There was a girl in the house, talking with Medda. Her arms were crossed in a purple blazer, and she gave off a no-nonsense vibe, professional in her questions to Medda.

The breath left his lungs.

Without breaking contact with the—well, _angel_ was the only word he could think of, as sappy as it was—Jack fumbled through his pocket, looking for a pen, marker, anything. Flicking the cap off of a Sharpie, he scrawled two words across the back of his hand.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Katherine was wrapping up her interview with Medda when she felt a sort of pins-and-needles sensation on the back of her hand. She shook out her hand, a flash of ink catching her eye. Her soulmate had written something—but she’d never felt it like that before…

_Found you_

Before the words can fully register, Medda yelled to the rafters “You up there! Go on! Shoo! You’re not supposed to be here!”

From above, Katherine heard a teasing voice call down, Brooklyn accent sharpening the words, “Not even me, Miss Medda?”

Tipping her head back, Katherine caught sight of a young man leaning over the catwalk. A newsboys cap perched on his head, and he had a troublemaker’s grin that made her heart squeeze against its will. She met his gaze, his green eyes bright with laughter.

And the world stopped turning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully not too terrible, right?  
> There is a definite possibility for expansion in this 'verse beyond this, but I haven't figured out how yet. Comments, concerns, and critiques are welcome! (I'm trying to be better at responding to people this time)
> 
> (psst— check me out on tumblr wordshakerofgallifrey)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katherine's not a coward, and Jack's not flustered. 
> 
> Until they are.

She’s not proud of her reaction.

Katherine Plumber was not a runner. She preferred to face things head on, not from under cover.

But when Medda yelled back to Jack, this time with a grin in her voice, “Jack Kelly! You get down here and give me a hug!”, Katherine felt the urge to bolt.

As Jack and the other boys with him turned to come back down the stairs to the first floor, Katherine quickly picked up her laptop bag, shoving her notebook in it. “Thank you for your time, Miss Larkin. I’ll let you know when the article runs.”

Shaking her hand, Medda gave her a knowing look Katherine wasn’t ready to think too hard about. “Thank you, Miss Plumber. I look forward to reading it.”

Katherine turned quickly to the exit, as the echo of pounding feet grew louder. She was up the aisle before she could see Jack practically run into Medda’s arms, or hear him ask, “Who was that girl?”

No, for once, Katherine Plumber was taking the coward’s way out.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Jack never had a girl effect him the way that reporter did.

Yeah, sure, he’d had girlfriends—well, no. He couldn’t really call them girlfriends, if he was being honest. Whatever you’d call them, he’d never planned on someone like _her_.

Medda wouldn’t tell him her name. _Some godmother_ , he thought without malice. He loved Medda, always had, she just liked to make him figure out things like this for himself.

Humming a song he’d heard at the theatre under his breath, Jack picked up an old newspaper and pencil from the floorboard and began sketching her.

“—Jack, are you listening?” Dave asked from the driver’s seat.

“Yes, Davey. Your snake facts are very interesting,” Jack said absently, rubbing out a line he’d messed up.

“’Snake facts’—? Jack, pay attention.” Dave tried to get a glance of what Jack was doing while keeping the car straight on the road. “What is that? Is that the girl?”

“Whatcha drawing, Jackie?” Crutchie poked his head over the passenger seat’s headrest.

“Lemme see!” Les strained against his seatbelt, nearly lifting himself from the seat entirely.

Dave hit the brakes a little too hard. “ _Les_. Back in your seat,” he warned as Crutchie nudged Les back with his crutch. He then used it to poke Jack with it.

“Jaack…”

Swatting at Crutchie over his shoulder, Jack folded the paper and stuck it under his arm. “It’s nothing. What were you sayin’ Dave?”

Side-eyeing him, Dave flipped on the turn signal to pull into the parking lot in front of Jacobi’s. “Just that we need to pick up something from Jacobi’s for dinner. You coming in?”

Jack was about to decline, stay and work on his sketch, when he caught the same flash of auburn he’d seen in Medda’s theatre in the window of Jacobi’s.

“Yeah,” he drawled, shifting the paper. “I’ll go in.”

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Someone settled in the booth across from her. “Twice in one day. Must be fate.”

Startled, Katherine looked up to see none other than Jack Kelly, grinning that same troublemaker grin. Quickly dropping her gaze back down to her laptop, she said, “Please go away. I’m working.”

He didn’t move. “Smart girl, huh? Whatcha working on?”

Without looking up, she replied drily, “I’m working on an article for the _Sun_.”

“Hey! I work for the _World_! Well,” he amended. “Kinda. I sell subscriptions to the _World_.”

Finally she met his eye. “I’m sure someone out there cares. Go tell them!” she waved a hand around the semi-crowded deli. Oddly enough, instead of turning him away, her attitude only seemed to encourage him.

“You a reporter, then?” he inquired, sounding genuinely curious.

“Trying to be,” she muttered, clicking the keys of her laptop forcefully. Her laptop—bought with her _own_ money, thank you very much—was old, so old, the keys stuck, and the battery life was half an hour on a good day, but it did the job. Most of the time. Well, fifty percent of the time.

“Does the reporter have a name? Mine’s Jack. Jack Kelly.” When she didn’t answer, he kept talking. “Okay, lemme guess. What’s a name for a smart girl? Smart, beautiful, independent—”

Slapping a hand down on the table, she cut him off, desperately hoping the heat in her cheeks was unnoticeable. “Do you mind? I’m not in the habit of talking to strangers.”

He gave her a cocky smirk she did _not_ find endearing at all. “You’re gonna make a lousy reporter then.”

Before she can retort, a young boy ran up to their table, pulling on Jack’s sleeve. “Jack! Dave says we need to get home for dinner.”

Jack clapped the boy’s shoulder and said, “Alright, kid. Tell Davey he’s a buzzkill, and I’ll be right over." 

“He said you’d say that, and that he doesn’t care what you say, and you have five minutes before we leave you here.” Turning to Katherine, he stuck out his hand. “Hi! I’m Les. Jack’s brother. Sorta.”

Shaking his hand and giving him a smile, Katherine had to stop the questions that bubbled up. “I’m Katherine. Jack’s…friend.”

Les gave her the most disbelieving look she’d ever seen on a kid that age. “I know you’re his soulmate. I saw you in Miss Medda’s theatre. You’re prettier than the other girls Jack’s—”

“Okay, kid!” Jack jumped up, wrapping an arm around Les’ chest. “Didn’t you say Dave was ready to go? Let’s go. Nice to meet you—Katherine, you said? See you around.”

Katherine watched him half-drag, half-carry Les to the door where two other boys stood, clearly laughing at Jack, shoving and teasing him as they loaded up into an ancient minivan. Biting her lip to keep from smiling, she turned back to her laptop.

_Article first, Katherine. Then wonder about soulmate._

When she finished the article and emailed it off to Denton, Katherine stood and shouldered her bag to leave. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a newspaper had been left in the seat Jack had vacated. Picking it up, and unfolding it, she was met with her own face looking back at her. In the corner was a scribbled _Jack Kelly_.

“Who _are_ you, Jack Kelly?” Katherine asked no one.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Sarah was the first one to notice. Or, probably more accurately, she was the first to decide to say something.

“Jack, you’ve been uncharacteristically quiet. Is everything alright?”

Lost in a world of pretty reporters with big brown eyes, Jack didn’t hear the question. He wasn’t even aware the table chatter had fallen silent until Crutchie poked him in the side with his crutch.

“Ow, geez!” Jack rubbed his side, casting Crutchie a hurt look. Picking his fork up, he finally noticed that Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs, Les, Dave, Sarah, and Crutchie were all staring at him. “What? What’d I do?”

“You haven’t eaten anything.” Mayer observed. “Are you feeling okay, son?”

“He oughta!” Les exclaimed before Jack could answer. “He met his soulmate today! Her name’s Katherine, and she’s real pretty. We met her at Medda’s theatre.”

“Jack!” Sarah squeezed his shoulder as she passed him, carrying her plate into the kitchen. “That’s great!”

Esther gave him that sweet, mothering smile of hers—the one that took him nearly a year to get used to—and reached across the table to pat his hand. “That is wonderful, Jack. What’s she like?”

Biting the inside of his cheek to keep the grin threatening to split his face at bay, Jack tried for nonchalance. “Ah, she’s... She’s somethin’ else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I'm not going to pretend I know exactly where this is going. I'm thinking maybe one or two more chapters, but then, I thought this was going to be a one-shot, so I clearly have no control over this story.
> 
> Les is a... persistent character. And since I cut a lot of his good lines from last chapter, he became a little more prominent here. But hey, the kid's cute. I won't argue.
> 
> Also, I read a headcanon that Davey would be the Newsie to drive all the other Newsies in his mom’s old minivan, and honestly? It's gold. Bless whoever came up with it.
> 
> And Crutchie using his crutch in other ways besides its intended purpose is an aesthetic I didn't know I needed in my life. 
> 
> I rely a little more heavily on the musical’s dialogue than I’d have liked, and I’m not sure how I feel about it, but it’s hard to imagine their first meeting without some of this dialogue. Hope that’s okay.
> 
> Not sure when I'll update next but hopefully it'll be soon *knocks on wood* Comments, concerns, and critiques welcome!
> 
> Peace, love, and sanity!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's not brooding and Katherine's tired.

Jack was _not_ brooding. He was… Thinking. On the fire escape. While he stared off into the distance.

But he wasn’t brooding.

And he definitely wasn’t thinking about how it’d been a week since he’d spoken to Katherine, and he hadn’t seen her, spoken to her, nothing. Or about how strangely disappointed he felt about it.

His not-brooding session was interrupted by Crutchie, who stuck his head out the window. “Hey, Jack. Les and Davey are ready to go. Can ya help me with these laces?”

Jack nodded, clearing his throat, but not saying anything. Crutchie grinned and pulled himself through the window. Sitting on the windowsill, he leaned his crutch against the railing of the fire escape and propped his foot up on Jack’s knee.

Carefully tying the laces on the shoe, Jack avoided Crutchie’s eye. After seven years of friendship, living with each other for over half that, the two could read each other better than anyone. He didn’t need Crutchie giving him that earnest look that meant he knew exactly what Jack was thinking.

He smacked the bottom of Crutchie’s shoe. “All set, kid.” Jack tried for a reassuring smile that Crutchie saw right through.

Reaching for his crutch, Crutchie asked, “Whatsa matter, Jack?”

“Nothing, Crutchie.” Jack stood and tried to go back through the window, but Crutchie didn’t budge. “Seriously, I’m fine. Gonna let me in or not? You know Davey hates bein’ late.”

“He’ll be fine,” Crutchie insisted, holding his crutch horizontally, like a barrier. “You aren’t. Now,” nudging Jack back with the crutch. “What’s wrong?”

Jack’s voice hardened. “Nothing. Leave it, _Charlie_.”

Crutchie’s eyes narrowed at the use of his real name. Jack never used it unless he was serious. “You thinkin’ of runnin’ away again?” His voice was low, calm, but Jack could hear the slight tremor in it.

He softened and scrubbed a hand down his face. “No,” Jack said, bending to look Crutchie in the eye. “I’m not. Never again. I promised, remember?”

Easing up a bit, Crutchie straightened. “ _I_ remember,” he said, dropping his crutch beside him. “Just makin’ sure _you_ did.”

“I do,” Jack swore. Crutchie’d been a mess when he tried running, almost clingy for a week, distant for another. Jack was the only person who’d never left him. And then he did. “We’re a family, kid.”

“Yeah,” Crutchie smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He shifted so Jack could reach through the window. “Family.”

Leaning past Crutchie through the window to grab both their backpacks, Jack cleared his throat. “If ya wanna know the truth, I was, ah. Thinkin’ about Katherine.”

The last of the tension left Crutchie’s shoulders. “Yeah?” he grinned, standing and adjusting his crutch. “What about Katherine?”

“I just… Can’t get her outta my head.” Jack admitted as they made their way down the fire escape. “It’s been a week since we talked, and it’s like she wishes she never met me or somethin’! I keep writin’ to her, but she won’t write back. And it’s drivin’ me crazy!”

Crutchie grinned again, hopping the last step of the fire escape. “Ohh, you got it bad for this one, Jackie.”

“Well,” Jack defended. “She _is_ my soulmate. Don’t that count for somethin’?”

Whatever Crutchie tried to say in reply was drowned out by a car horn. Both boys jumped, glaring at Dave, who was sitting in the driver’s seat of their old van.

“Geez, Davey!” Jack yanked open the passenger door. “We’re right here.”

“Well, I need you in _here_ ,” Dave insisted. “We need to get Les to school, you know the traffic’s awful around the middle school.” Les made a sleepy sound of displeasure from the backseat.

Jack rolled his eyes, sliding into the front seat. “Yes, Mom.”

As Dave nosed the car into traffic, muttering curses intended for the other drivers under his breath, and Les grumbled about school, Jack felt Crutchie poking his shoulder with his crutch. “Yeah, kid?”

“I wouldn’t worry, Jack. About Katherine. She’ll come around.”

Jack smiled. Crutchie’s never-failing optimism astounded him. “Thanks, Crutchie.”

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

If she was honest, Katherine didn’t know what she was doing. Not for the first time in four years, she wished her mother or Lucy were around to talk to.

Every day for the last week Jack had been writing to her, little notes of what he’d done that day, asking if she wanted to meet again, silly stick figure drawings of the boys she’d seen him with that day. Every morning and every night a _Good morning, Ace_ , and _Sleep well._

And she hadn’t even touched a pen in a week.

Katherine weighed her options as she absently set up the conference room for a staff meeting. On the one hand, she was a Plumber, and Plumbers stuck to their guns. She wouldn’t contact him.

On the other hand… she was tired. Tired of pretending he didn’t exist, like he didn’t intrigue her, like he was some ambiguous figure in her life, a mere concept of the soulmate she’d resolutely ignored.

He was real, tangible. She was curious.

Her train of thought was interrupted by Mr. Denton, who entered the conference room. “Katherine! Just who I was looking for.”

Shaken out of her stupor, Katherine straightened. “Can I help you, Mr. Denton?”

“No, no,” he took a seat at the head of the table. “I just wanted to tell you your article on Medda Larkin will run tomorrow. Good work, Plumber.”

Feeling her face flush, Katherine tried to keep from grinning too broadly. “Thank you, Mr. Denton.”

“Want another article? Still nothing huge,” he quickly reminded her. “But Bill over in entertainment and I discussed putting you on some of the smaller events, to get your feet wet. Interested?”

The rest of the writers started trickling in as Katherine nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. Yes, that would be great. Thank you so much, Mr. Denton.” He nodded at her before turning to start the meeting, and she slipped out the door.

Katherine managed to wait until she was out of the building, on the sidewalk, before letting out an uncharacteristically shrill squeal. _She was getting an article published_. Denton offered her another. Things were looking up.

And the only person she wanted to tell was Jack. Not Clara, her best friend. Not her father, who inspired her to get in the newspaper game. Not even Medda, who the article was about.

She actually wanted to talk to her soulmate.

Choosing to chase this feeling of renewed confidence, Katherine dug a pen out of her purse, paused as she thought about what to write. Finally, she settled for something simple.

_My article’s being published—the one about Medda_

She watched the words fade from her skin, waiting impatiently for his reply. Maybe he was working, or couldn’t reply just now. Maybe he was ignoring her, like she had for the past week. Maybe he hated her now. Maybe…

 _Hey, way to go Ace!_  

Katherine pressed her knuckles to her mouth, hiding her grin. She definitely shouldn’t be feeling so giddy over five words, and yet…

 _Thanks,_ she wrote. _It runs tomorrow_

 _Well I’ll just have to get a copy of the_ Sun _then_

Pulling out her phone to check the time, Katherine figured she had about ten minutes before the meeting was over, and she was needed again. Settling on a bench outside the office, she sat down to have her first real, non-verbal, conversation with her soulmate.

_So how was your day?_

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Jack had been out on the fire escape since after dinner. Which was only suspicious to Dave because Jack only went out on the escape when he was upset, and for all he’d been moody this week, he’d seemed in better spirits when Dave picked him up from work.

He was splitting his attention between his book and the window, when his mom poked her head in the room. “David, your father and I are going to bed. Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

“Okay, Mom. Night.” He scrunched his nose as she bent to kiss the top of his head. Mostly for show, though he’d never admit it to anyone.

She turned to the other bed. “Where’s Jack?”

Dave pointed out the window with his book. Putting her hands on her hips, his mother turned to the open window. “Jack Kelly,” she scolded. “You come in here before you catch your death!”

Scribbling one last thing on his arm, Jack pulled himself through the window. “Sorry, Esther.” He had the decency to at least pretend to look chagrined as he sat on the edge of his bed.

Shaking her head, Esther patted his shoulder and kissed his head like she had Dave. “Goodnight, boys,” she said, closing the door.

“Goodnight, Mom.”

“Night, Esther.”

The door clicked shut quietly. Kicking off his shoes, Jack stood to change into his pajamas. Dave watched him move around their room. There was something different about the way Jack was acting; he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

Finally, he just asked. “What’s with you?”

Jack paused, his shirt halfway off, his arms awkwardly bent over his head. “What do ya mean?”

Shrugging, Dave set his book on the nightstand next to his bed. “You’ve been… moping all week, and now, you’re, I dunno. Happy.”

Tugging on a plain white tshirt to sleep in, Jack looked insulted. “First of all, Davey, I wasn’t _moping_. And I’m not actin' any different than usual.” His voice had a note of finality, and he dropped back on his bed, rolling to face the wall.

Dave shrugged, leaning over to turn off the light. “Oookay. Night Jack.”

Jack grunted in response.

They lay there in silence for a while, before Dave heard Jack roll over and say softly, “She wrote back today.”

“Yeah?” Dave propped a hand under his pillow.

“Yeah.” Jack took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. “I don’t know how to explain it, Davey. I’ve only spoken to her once, we’ve only known each other a week, hell, a week ago I didn’t even want to meet her, and now, I just… it’s like a piece of me I didn’t know was missin' was filled.”

Dave considered this. “That sounds like what Dad said about meeting Mom. He said meeting her was like being able to use a limb he’d never had.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Of course,” he shifted onto his back. “They did meet in the hospital where she patched him up after he broke his arm. So that may have something to do with it.”

Jack laughed. “Thanks, Davey.”

“Sure.” They lapsed into silence again. “So. When do we meet the girl who made Jack Kelly mope for a week?”

 _Whump!_ A pillow hit him square in the face. “Shaddup, Dave.”

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

The next morning, Katherine pounded down the stairs, jumping the last couple of steps, before making a beeline for the door.

“What in the world is all that racket for, Katherine?” she heard her father yell from the other room.

“Just a minute, Dad!” Sliding the last few feet in her socks, Katherine wrenched open the door. And there it was, sitting on the welcome mat. The _Sun,_ complete with her first article.

She plopped down on the floor, regardless of the chilly April morning, or the fact she was still in her pajamas, and rifled through the paper, looking for her byline.

“There!” she said under her breath. She skimmed through it, drinking in the fact that this was _her_ article, and it was in a _real_ newspaper.

Her father chose that moment to walk through the front foyer. “Katherine! What are you doing? Come in, close the door.”

Katherine stood, holding the paper carefully, and shut the front door, locking it behind her. “Sorry, Dad. But look! My article ran in today’s edition of the _Sun_.” She held it out for him to see.

“Huh.” Joe Plumber took the paper from her and pulled out his reading glasses. “Let’s take a look, then.” She bounced on the balls of her feet, waiting for him to finish.

When he did, he snapped the paper closed, folding it neatly and handing it back to her. “Adequate. For an entertainment piece.” And then he turned on his heel and went into the kitchen, leaving Katherine standing dumbfounded in the foyer.

 _Adequate? For an_ entertainment piece _?_ she thought, feeling insulted, disappointed, embarrassed. She knew of her father’s high standards for newspaper writing, but for him to be so degrading of her writing, especially her first article, wasn’t something she expected. Slowly, she opened the paper back to her article and read through it, slowly, methodically, looking at it objectively. Maybe there was something she could have done better...

Katherine’s not sure how long she stood there before she felt the now-familiar pricking sensation on her arm that told her Jack had written something.

_Your article’s great_

And then, a moment later, under that, smaller, like he wasn't sure he wanted her to see, _I’m proud of you_

It was nothing, a mere four words, but it was what she needed to hear. A confirmation of a job well done. It was certainly more than her father gave her. And it made her wonder, maybe this would be different than her mother, or Lucy. How would she know, if she kept ignoring him?

"Nothing happens if you just give in," her mother told her once.

She picked up a pen and wrote _Want to get dinner tonight?_

After a tense minute, she looked down to see _Sure. Dinner sounds great. 7?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a BEAST to write. Characters have minds of their own, and anyone who says differently is selling something. 
> 
> Next chapter ~should~ be the last one, ending on their date. But, again. Characters have minds of their own. I've written a chunk of their date and keep trying to fit it in and they just. won't. let me.
> 
> And, yes, Mama Jacobs goes around and tells all her children goodnight before going to bed. It has been declared.
> 
> Also, I just watched The Last Five Years, and apparently the "Shiksa Goddess" scene stuck with me, because I had no intention of Jack taking his shirt off. At all. (their. own. minds.)
> 
> Update to come soon...ish. Hopefully. Comments, concerns, and critiques welcome. 
> 
> Peace, love, and sanity!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katherine's nervous, Jack's acting strange, and Les?
> 
> Les doesn't get it.

Katherine didn’t know why she was so nervous.

No, she knew why. She just wasn’t ready to admit it to herself.

She always held pride in her abilities as a wordsmith, but Katherine was having trouble coming up with the right words to describe how she felt about Jack.

When her mom and Lucy died, she stopped feeling… whole. Like something was missing, and not even her dad could find it. And since meeting Jack she felt—not whole, exactly. But more together, hastily patched up, like there wasn't a gaping hole in her heart. Like she's found the missing piece, she just doesn't know how to fit it in yet.

And Katherine was scared to know what that meant.

Throwing another shirt on her bed, she flopped down next to it, unplugging her phone from its charger. Swiping through her contacts, Katherine brought the device to her ear.

“Hello?”

“I need your help.”

Clara sighed over the line. “Kath, it’s a date. You know how those work, remember?”

Katherine threw an arm over her eyes. She wasn’t normally so dramatic, but, today, she felt justified. “Darcy doesn’t _count_ , Clara. We attended some party together to make our dads happy. And the whole thing with Bill was just awkward. This is… Jack.”

“And why is Jack different?” Clara asked.

Exhaling loudly, she sat up, drawing a leg up to her chest, resting her head on her knee. “He’s… my soulmate.”

“And that’s bad because…?” Clara prodded.

Chewing on her thumbnail, Katherine tried to decide how to answer. She never told Clara why she felt so indifferent towards soulmates, just that she did. And, honestly, she wasn’t ready to admit that aloud.

“I just… This date is almost like—like, I don’t know. The beginning of the rest of our lives. There’s a ‘The One’ for everyone, and I found mine at seventeen. That’s a _lot_ of pressure.”

Clara was quiet for a moment. “Well, then… Don’t think of it like that. Jack’s just a guy you met on an assignment, you thought he was cute, now you’re getting dinner. Simple.”

“Yeah,” Katherine sighed. “Simple.”

Except it felt anything but.

  

*~*~*~*~*

 

Les didn’t get it.

Sure, theoretically, he loved the idea of soulmates. Loved hearing about the messages that appeared from nowhere on his brothers’ skin. But in practice? What was the point of _dates_? And all that lovey crap he saw on television? It just didn’t make _sense_.

So when Jack started acting all weird, talking about dates, and sitting out on the fire escape, and locking himself in his and Dave’s room with Davey and Crutchie, Les asked him.

He didn’t get the answer he was looking for.

Davey said he was too young to understand right now.

Jack said he’d feel differently when he was older.

Crutchie just agreed with them before wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Then they kicked him out. So there he was, sitting cross-legged across from Jack and Dave’s room, head in his hands, pouting.

Which he was probably too old for, but if he was too young to hang out with the older boys, maybe he was young enough to keep pouting. Les didn’t care, either way. He  _hated_ being left out.

His mom stepped over him with a basket of laundry. “Les, honey. What are you doing out here?”

“Jack ‘n Davey ‘n Crutchie kicked me out,” he replied, still glaring at the door.

Shifting the basket to her hip, she asked, “And why did they do that?”

“‘Cause Jack’s gettin’ ready for his stupid date.”

Esther laughed, reaching down to tousle his hair. “One day, my dear, you won’t find dates so stupid,” she declared, walking back towards the living room.

“Yeah, right,” Les muttered, pushing his lower lip out even further.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Jack had been on many first—and only—dates, but none have felt this…

Well. Awkward.

Dave told him to be himself. But Jack was having a hard time remembering exactly how to do that. He felt self-conscious about everything from how he sat in the booth to what he chose to wear, let alone how he was supposed to _talk_ to Katherine.

Thankfully, she broke the silence. “How do you know Medda?”

Jack shrugged, relaxing a bit. Medda, he could talk about. “Medda’s my godmother. She knew my dad back in the day. Long as I can remember, I’ve been hanging around her theatre.”

"How did she and your dad meet?" 

And that was all it took. After telling her the (admittedly far-fetched) story of how his father met Medda almost twenty years ago, he told her some of the even more outlandish stories of he and Crutchie in the orphanage with some of the other boys—"I'm sorry, did you say his name was _Racetrack_?" "Kid loved makin' bets. Didn't matter what is was, so long as he had good odds"—and some of the adventures they'd taken Dave and Les on.

Jack worried he might be talking too much—Davey always said he had a big mouth—but Katherine didn't seem to mind. She was a good listener, he decided, nodding at all the right parts, asking all the right questions. That is, until she asked,

“Wait, your dad… Is he still in Santa Fe?” She tilted her head in confusion. “Are you going back to New Mexico, or did you move to New York?”

If he weren't so thrown by the question, Jack would feel a sense of pride at the slight disappointment in her voice. Instead, he felt his shoulders tense up, and he avoided her scrutinizing gaze, choosing to twist his straw wrapper between his fingers instead. He’d almost forgotten. He'd hoped she had, too.

Almost three years ago now, when he and Crutchie moved in with the Jacobs, there was a night, a night where Jack felt the walls closing in, so he decided to run away, go West. Before he bolted for the train station, he shoved a couple of books, a clean shirt, and what little money he had in the knapsack, and carefully wrote _Santa Fe_ on his arm.

As he waited around, trying to figure out a way to hop a train—he didn’t have nearly enough money to buy a ticket from New York to New Mexico—he looked down to see, in looping handwriting that took him a minute to read, _What’s in Santa Fe?_

It was the first and only conversation they’d had before that day at Jacobi’s—and he’d told her he was living in Santa Fe.

Probably not the best first impression, lying to his soulmate.

“Yeah… ‘Bout that.” Jack cleared his throat and dropped the shredded straw wrapper on the table. “I—my folks... well. I don’t have folks. ‘Cept for Crutchie, I guess. And Davey, and Les, and their folks. But my mom and dad, they died when I was a kid. Also,” he added after a moment, “I never lived in Santa Fe.”

Realization dawned on Katherine. “Les said he was your ‘sorta’ brother… Foster family?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Three years in July.”

“Why did you lie?” It wasn’t accusatory, simply curious.

This wasn’t something he wanted to discuss… Ever. The only person who knew any of it was Crutchie, and that was after knowing each other for five years. A week ago, he ignored the fact he even had a soulmate, let alone figured out how he’d explain this to her. And now?

Now he knew her, and didn’t want to scare her off.

_Keep it simple, Jackie._

“I’m a runner, Katherine. Always have been. Ran from the orphanage three times before I met Crutchie, I’ve run from the cops once or twice—” She raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing “—and I tried runnin’ from the one family that actually took me in. People don’t stick around,” he said matter-of-factly. “Always figured it was easier to run before they did. That included my soulmate.

“So I told you I was in Santa Fe. Thought it would make things… easier. Or something. I dunno,” he shrugged helplessly. “The only person who’d never let me down for years was Crutchie. My mom died when I was five, my dad drank himself to the grave by the time I was eight. The orphanage didn’t even want me, shuffled me around to foster families who definitely only wanted me for the check. I just…didn’t want to give my soulmate the chance to let me down, too.”

And there it was, laid out on the table.

_God, I hope it was worth it._

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

That was… A lot to take in. But Katherine understood where he was coming from. Supposedly, the universe found a perfect match for every person on the planet. And if those who had a choice to be around him chose not to, what was to keep _her_  from choosing something else?

Jack wasn’t looking at her, his gaze flitting around the restaurant, as he picked at the skin of his nail bed. He was nervous, she realized. He was waiting for her reaction.

“My mom always wanted to be a lawyer,” she was surprised to hear herself say—she hadn’t talked about her mom, or Lucy, in years. “She met my dad when she was just a little younger than us. He was being groomed to take over the paper from his father. You could say my family was, and is, 'high society', I guess. When they got married, Mom dropped out of school, became the pretty housewife who was in charge of the house social schedule."

He was watching her now, those green eyes observing her so closely it almost made her squirm. She took a deep breath, steadying herself.  _In for a penny..._

“My sister, Lucy, wanted to be a photographer. Same story. She met her soulmate, another high society man. Set her camera down one day, and never picked it up again. They died,” she said shortly. “About a year before you first wrote to me by accident, actually. And I never wanted to be that woman, to just… give up like that. To die having just been someone’s soulmate.”

The last bit came out in a near-whisper. Katherine had never admitted this aloud to anyone, not even Clara. And who’s the first person she decided to tell? Her soulmate.

She always knew she had lousy timing, but this took the cake.

Jack was quiet for a tense minute, in which it was her turn to avoid his gaze, before saying, almost as softly as she had been, “So where does that leave us?”

Katherine considered this. It wasn’t a dismissal. He wasn’t turned off by her admission. He simply wanted, needed, to know where they stood.

They were more alike than she'd first thought. They were both trying, trying so hard, to be okay with a system they’d always assumed would fail. Assumed would let them down like everyone else had. But maybe, with time, they could prove to each other that it wouldn’t.

“At the beginning,” she decided. Holding out her hand to him, Katherine smiled. “Hi, I’m Katherine Plumber. I believe you’re my soulmate.”

Jack grinned back, slowly. Taking her hand in his, he shook it firmly. “Why, hello, Katherine Plumber. I’m Jack Kelly. It’s nice to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I lied. There's gonna be another chapter. Just a lil epilogue to wrap things up. 
> 
> Weirdly enough, Les' part was the hardest, and the most fun, to write.
> 
> I couldn't fit it in organically here, but I wanted to make clear that Jack never went to live with Medda because she was either a) touring with her show, trying to make herself known, or b) simply didn't have the means to support him as well. She always had time for him when she was in town, sent him postcards and letters from the road, and, once her theatre was up and running, hired him part time to paint backdrops for the show.
> 
> (I'm just really emotional about the Medda/Jack relationship, okay?)
> 
> If anyone's interested, I do have a half-baked idea for a sort of--prequel, I guess?--expanding a little more on Jack running away and Katherine after her mother and Lucy's death and their first conversation. I could properly bake it if that's something y'all would like to see.
> 
> Comments, concerns, and critiques welcome!
> 
> Peace, love, and sanity!


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He loved her.
> 
> She loved him.

Jack Kelly found his soulmate.

She was willful and stubborn, a fantastic writer, and, honestly, the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. She made him—a runner—want to stay put.

Well, maybe not _stay put_. But slow down enough for her to catch up.

She took up residence in the hole he always thought Santa Fe would fill.

He loved her.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

Katherine Plumber found her soulmate.

He was cocky and bullheaded, a wonderful artist, and, not that she’d admit it to him for fear of inflating his ego, quite handsome. He encouraged her to chase every opportunity.

It wasn’t anything like she saw her mother or sister go through.

It was better. So much better.

She loved him.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

People always made it out like once you met your soulmate, everything was easy, you walked into the sunset, lived happily ever after, all that jazz.

After six years, Jack and Katherine could safely call bull on the whole scam.

It was hardest in the beginning. A cancelled date, or even going too long without seeing Katherine, filled his head with thoughts of abandonment. Suggesting she slow down, take a breath, angered her, reminded her too much of the women she couldn’t grow up to be.

There were fights, tears, nights spent on the fire escape, talking-downs from Davey and Clara and Crutchie, scrawled _I’m sorry_ s on the hand, the arm, the heart.

But they made it. Through awkward dinners with Joe, through rowdy ones with the Jacobs’; through political rallies and job hunts; through the long-distance relationship in college—most wouldn’t consider a state away truly “long-distance”, but it sure felt that way—through their first apartment hunt, and dealing with snobby realtors who looked down on them for being kids. They’d been through thick and thin, hell and high water, and came out on the other side stronger for it.

He loved her.

She loved him.

 

*~*~*~*~*

 

He was going to propose.

Tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He draws a band around his ring finger, gets through "will" and "you", before she practically tackles him with her yes. It's very romantic. 
> 
> ***
> 
> And that's all she wrote. 
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments, subscriptions, kudos, and bookmarks! It was a very warm welcome back into the fanfic-writing world. 
> 
> Sidebar: (it's a little early, but I have an extremely busy end of the semester, so if I can get a jump on it, I will) I would love any Christmassy prompts, canon divergence or AU, that you'd like to see. You can drop it here, or in my inbox on Tumblr (my url is wordshakerofgallifrey). I'd like to do a one-a-day, twenty-five days of Christmas kinda thing (it looks fun when other authors do it, I want to see if I can). Anyways...
> 
> Comments, concerns, and critiques welcome!
> 
> Peace, love, and sanity!


End file.
